The Witch in the Woods
by evitamockingbird
Summary: Charles lives in Downton, which has been plagued by terrible luck, and everybody is blaming the witch who lives in the woods outside of the village. Charles is sent out to confront the witch, but she isn't at all what he expected. Chelsie AU
1. Trouble in Downton

**Thanks to chelsiesouloftheabbey for a delectable prompt on Tumblr. I couldn't resist! I hope you enjoy this little romp into another universe.**

Charles swore as he spat sour milk onto the ground. _Not again,_ he thought. _It must be this damn heat making it spoil so fast._ He went into his cottage to find the bottle of milk so he could dispose of it. He had to go into the village for a few things later, so he could buy more milk then. Charles went back outside to enjoy a few minutes of the cool morning air when his two farm workers, Drewe and Blake, arrived. They were good young men - strong, loyal, and hardworking. Without them, his orchard would not thrive as it had for the last decade.

"Morning, chaps," Charles greeted them.

"Let's hope so," Drewe replied. "Yesterday wasn't so good. Half the apples on the trees were rotten. I don't see how they could have gone bad so fast. We check their growth every day."

"Maybe the peaches will be in better shape," Blake said hopefully.

"We'll make a thorough check today, sir," Drewe promised.

"I know you will, lads," Charles told them. "It's not your fault. Some years the harvest just isn't good." He hoped that yesterday's harvest wouldn't be an accurate prediction of the rest of the year.

Charles left Drewe and Blake to their work and went inside. "William!" he called out to his son. "William!" He looked around the house and shrugged, a little irritated. If the boy had waited a little while he could have run his father's few errands, but as it was Charles was going to have to go himself. He grabbed his bag and headed out, taking a quick peek into the stables. As he had expected, Bella was gone. William loved to ride, even if it were just to the village and back. Charles didn't mind the walk, though. It wasn't far from the orchard to the Downton marketplace. He picked up a few items he needed, left a pair of William's shoes with the cobbler for repair, and went looking for the dairy farmer's wife. When he arrived at her usual spot, she was missing. He asked at the neighboring stall and was told she wasn't there.

"She hasn't got anything to sell!" the butcher explained. "All of her milk is sour."

Charles frowned. "Mine was sour this morning, too. Is she keeping it too long before bringing it to market?"

"No, not at all." The butcher leaned toward Charles and spoke in a low voice. " _All_ the milk is sour. _Straight from the cow."_

"I've never heard of anything like that!"

Just then, a young man joined the conversation. "That's not the only strange thing happening in Downton," Alfred told them. "My son cries day and night. The medicine woman can't find anything wrong with him, but Ivy and I have hardly slept a wink for the last week."

"Half my apples suddenly went bad yesterday," Charles added.

"Suspicious, isn't it?" the butcher asked. "I think it's the old witch in the woods, casting her evil spell on us."

Charles was skeptical. "I doubt that. She's a harmless old crone. I've hardly ever seen her even come near the village."

Other villagers were drawn to this conversation and joined in, most of them agreeing with the butcher's idea that the old witch in the woods was responsible. "Then how do you explain what's been happening here?" someone demanded.

"It could be any number of things," he replied. "Coincidences."

The crowd in general disagreed with him and their murmurings grew louder and more angry. Before long they had hit on the idea of sending someone to confront the witch in her home. They were arguing over who might be the best man for the job when the mayor walked over to the group.

"What's this?" Robert wanted to know.

Charles spoke up. "These fellows are blaming some bad fortune on the witch in the woods."

The mayor scoffed. "That's nonsense."

"That's what I said."

The crowd became boisterous again, all speaking at once. Both Robert and Charles were well-respected in Downton, but the others had whipped themselves up into a frenzy. They were only interrupted when a young boy came running into the market, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Mr. Charles, come quick!" he exclaimed, out of breath. "It's your son. It's William."

"What's happened?" Charles demanded, following the boy.

"His horse threw him."

Charles could not believe it. William was as good a horseman as anyone in the village and Bella the gentlest creature there was. When he reached the site of the accident his blood ran cold. His eighteen-year-old son lay on the ground, flat on his back, while one of his neighbors held Bella - now perfectly calm - by her bridle. Charles knelt down beside William. The boy's eyes were open, but he didn't seem able to speak.

His neighbor saw his anxiety and tried to assuage it. "He got the wind knocked out of him, poor boy. He might not be able to talk right away."

Charles nodded and turned back to his son, putting his hand on his shoulder. "I'm here, my boy," he said. "Everything's going to be all right, William."

After a minute or so, William seemed to be breathing normally. "I don't know now it happened," he told his father.

"Never mind how it happened. How do you feel?"

"Like I'm going to have a few pretty nasty bruises."

"Can you sit up?"

William grimaced a little, but he sat up normally. Then Charles helped him get to his feet. He gingerly took a few steps before he stood up straight. "I think I'm all right, Dad, aside of some bumps and bruises."

Charles breathed a sigh of relief. He noticed that the group of rabble rousers had followed him and he turned to face them. "I'll go see the witch in the woods," he told them firmly. "And I'll take my sword."

 _To be continued..._


	2. The Witch in the Woods

Charles found his sword in the bottom of a trunk. He got it out and sharpened it once or twice every year, but then put it away again, so it was sharp, but nicked and tarnished. What need did a farmer have for a sword? It had been passed down from some distant ancestor through many generations and Charles had kept it more for sentimental reasons than for actual use. And although he had been frightened and angered by William's unlikely accident, he now wondered if he was doing the right thing. Would threats or violence be effective against black magic? Probably not, but he had committed to it and he would follow through. He polished the sword until it gleamed, at least as much as it could gleam, which wasn't much. It occurred to him that it might be a good idea to confront the old crone, after all. No doubt some of his fellow villagers would go into the witch's house and hack her to pieces without a word. Charles could at least be reasonable. _Will she be persuadable?_ he wondered. If he dealt with her fairly, perhaps she would agree to release Downton from her enchantment, if she was indeed responsible.

It was midafternoon when Charles strapped his sword to his belt and set out for the witch's house in the woods, leaving William resting in bed. As he walked down the lane that led to the house, the trees grew thicker and the light grew dimmer. When he reached the place, it was about as dark as twilight, though he knew it was still four or five hours to sunset. He stopped for a few seconds to assess his surroundings. The windows of the house were crooked, the door was slanted to one side, and the pointed roof leaned to the other. He wondered how such a house stayed standing. Black smoke issued from the crumbling chimney and thick weeds surrounded the house, aside of the narrow path to the front door. It didn't look especially welcoming, but neither was it particularly threatening. Charles pulled his sword from its scabbard and approached the door. However, before he knocked, he let it fall to his side. He couldn't bring himself to brandish it at the witch - not before he had stated his demands. She would see that he was serious, but she would not feel the immediate need to strike him down. Or so he hoped.

Charles was about to knock a second time when the door opened very slowly and he was faced with an ugly old woman. She was short and hunched over a cane. Her nose was long and pointy and graced with several warts. Her grey hair looked like a bird's nest under her black, pointy hat. She was dressed all in black and looked at him, assessing him with one clear eye and one that was white and fogged. Charles cleared his throat to state his demands, but she spoke first.

"What is it you want, young man?" He was shocked when she spoke. Everything about her was ugly, except her voice. It was the voice of a much younger woman than the one who stood before him, and it lilted musically in his ear.

Charles drew himself up to his full height and spoke loudly. "I am here to demand that you release Downton village from your wicked magic. People are getting hurt and losing their livelihoods because of you."

The witch laughed, which sounded something like tinkling bells. "That's nonsense."

He scowled at her. "It may mean nothing to you, but we ordinary humans depend on certain things for life! If you take them away, we are hurt. We may even die."

"And you are appealing to my conscience? Is that it?"

"I suppose _that_ is nonsense as well, appealing to the conscience of one who has none," he bristled.

"You are wrong," she said, giving him a steely look. _Wait a minute. What happened to her bad eye?_

"Am I?" he challenged her.

She tilted her head and looked at him with a smile and for a moment something almost charming flitted across her face. "Why don't you come in for a cup of tea?"

"What?" Charles was completely surprised by this turn of events.

"Tea," she answered. "Hot drink, made from leaves."

"I know what tea is," he ground out. "I just didn't expect a witch to offer me any. It's probably poisoned anyway."

"Then don't drink it," she said with a wave of her hand. "That will leave more for me." She turned away and went inside without waiting for an answer, her gait surprisingly brisk for a woman of her years. Charles could do little but follow her. "You won't need the sword," she called over her shoulder.

"I'll keep it all the same," he answered defensively.

"Just as you like." The front door slammed shut.

When they reached the kitchen, Charles looked around in wonder. It was a tidy, cozy room with a little table in the center. The witch went to the stove and lit the fire to boil some water and went to find the tea leaves. He stood awkwardly, watching her, and as she moved around the room, he noticed something strange. Her hunch and cane had disappeared and her now glossy hair was pinned up in a tidy bun under the large pointed hat. She seemed to be slowly transforming herself from the old crone into something else. When at last the water had boiled and she brought a tray with the pot and two cups to the table, the only resemblance between the woman in the kitchen and the woman at the door consisted of her clothing and her voice. She gestured for Charles to sit down and he did, staring dumbfounded at the witch. She looked like a pretty woman of about forty, not much younger than himself. Her blue eyes twinkled as she fixed her cup of tea, amused by his expression.

"Please, have a cup," she encouraged him.

At last, Charles shrugged and accepted her offer. She had taken the wind out of his sails. She wasn't intimidated by his sword or his booming voice and she laughed at his demands. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but something told him that she wasn't trying to poison him. He didn't intend to leave the house until he knew just what was afoot, and he might as well have some tea to fortify himself.

"Good!" she said. "I hope a cup of tea will calm you down so we can have a civilized conversation."

"A civilized conversation?"

"Well, it wasn't much of a conversation, you shouting about your grievances and not knowing what to make of anything I said."

"I suppose that's about right," Charles admitted. "But please explain yourself."

"Before I tell you anything else, I must set you straight on one thing. I am not responsible for what has been happening in Downton."

"And do you expect me to believe that?"

"No, I don't, but it's true all the same. Do you think I'm the only witch near Downton?"

"I can't say I've thought much about it."

"Of course not!" she said sharply. "You just blame the first one you can think of and come at me with your sword and your angry voice."

Charles sighed. He was making very little headway. "Do you know who is responsible?"

The witch shook her head. "Unfortunately, no." A knock sounded on the back door. "Come in!" she called out.

The door opened and several young children came through it, launching themselves at the witch, who laughed and kissed each of them on the top of the head. "Thomas, Daisy, Anna! What is it you want, children?" The two little girls wrapped their arms around her middle and the boy whispered in her ear. "Ah, you want some sweets. Why does this not surprise me?" They looked at her with pleading eyes and she laughed. "A little later, sweetlings," she promised. "I have company, but after he leaves I'll make a cake. Will that do?" The children were happy with her response and she stood up to shoo them out the back door again. Thomas clutched her arm, but Daisy and Anna clung to her legs, making walking impossible. The witch flicked her fingers in the direction of the door and it opened. "Now go back outside and play. I'll see you soon." They detached themselves from the witch and went outside. The door closed behind them.

"You have _children_?" he asked in disbelief.

"In a way," she replied. "I take care of them, but they're not really mine. They're orphans. They belong to nobody, but they're still children, so they must be watched over."

"I've never known a witch who cared for children."

"Not many do. I'm an odd witch."

"Now _that_ is certainly true. I'm not afraid of you now."

"You were afraid before?"

"Yes," Charles admitted. "When you were old and ugly you seemed just the sort of witch who would curse a town."

"Because ugly always means evil?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well… yes, I suppose." Charles felt like a naughty child under her skeptical eye.

She smiled. "Good. That feeling is just what I depend on to keep me safe."

"What do you mean?" He was confused.

"I'm not invulnerable, you know. But people fear ugliness and that's how I keep them from bothering me."

"Then why did you reveal yourself to me? I appeared at your door with a sword in my hand, for heaven's sake!"

"You held a sword, yes, but I knew you didn't _really_ want to hurt me."

Charles looked at her, studying her expression. Every moment of this bizarre encounter was more surprising than the last. He would never in a thousand years have expected to find a witch so beguiling. He had come to her door an angry man, but now he just wanted to sit at her kitchen table and listen to her talk for the rest of the day. He knew he could not, however, and the thought of returning to Downton made him frown.

"What's wrong?" the witch asked.

"I think my neighbors chose the wrong man for this errand."

She smiled. "I don't think so."

"I can tell them you're not responsible, but how can I prove it?"

Her smile faded. "You can't, of course. At least not until you find out who _is_."

"I will do my best. I wouldn't like to see you harmed."

"Thank you."

"Surely you can defend yourself, though."

The witch looked away. "Yes, but not in the way you might think."

He lowered his voice. "Will you tell me?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, before facing him directly. "Only if you swear not to reveal my secret."

Charles held out his hand. "I swear it," he said, looking straight into into her eyes.

She took his hand for a moment and then let it go, picking up her teacup. "I can use magic only for good. I can't harm anyone, even if they are trying to destroy me."

"Oh," he murmured. "That explains why you choose to let everyone believe you're ugly and evil."

"Yes. If they knew the truth, I might be in danger."

"Then how do you defend yourself at all?" Charles wanted to know.

"With my adversaries' greatest wishes. If they are greedy, I distract them with gold. If they wish themselves in some beautiful, exotic place, I can transport them there."

He couldn't help smiling. "What about me? Did you discover that my greatest wish was a cup of tea?"

"I wasn't sure what you wished for. I still don't know. It's not obvious with everyone. But I knew you would not strike me down, defenseless in my kitchen."

"I have one question - a silly one, I think."

"A silly question? Well, ask away."

"Why do you bother with boiling water and making tea or baking cake? Can't you just wave your hand and make it all appear out of thin air?"

"I could," she admitted. "But I like to do some ordinary chores myself. It keeps life interesting. Though I will tell you that I use magic to clean up my kitchen. There is nothing enjoyable about that."

"I can understand that!" He paused. "Do you… do you have a name?"

The witch was surprised. "I do, though it's a long time since anyone used it."

"What do the children call you?"

"They call me Godmother."

"That sounds about right."

"I used to be called Elsie."

"Do you mind if I call you Elsie? I can't just call you 'Witch.'"

"You may call me Elsie, on one condition. That you tell me _your_ name."

Charles smiled. "Of course. My name is Charles."

She smiled back. "And may I call you Charlie?"

He looked off into the distance, thoughtful. "Yes. It's been a long time since anyone called me Charlie, but I like it."

"Well, Charlie, I think your friends back at Downton will start to worry if you don't go home soon and I have a cake to make."

He got quickly to his feet. "Yes, you're right. We wouldn't want them to come here looking for me."

"We most definitely would not!"

"Thank you for the tea, Elsie."

"You are welcome at any time, Charlie."

"Your secret is safe with me," he added.

"I know. Now be off with you."

Charles nodded quickly and made his way out of the house and back to Downton.

 _To be continued…_


	3. William Meets Elsie

It was almost dark when Charles trudged wearily home. He found William waiting impatiently for him in the kitchen.

"Where were you, Dad? What happened? Did you see the witch?"

Charles slumped into a chair. "It's a long story."

"I have plenty of time."

"Of course you do. And I have every intention of telling you. But what a day! I will sleep well tonight."

"Should I make you some tea, Dad?"

Charles waved away this suggestion. "No, just sit with me and I'll tell you all about it." William obeyed. "I went to see the witch and I learned that she is not responsible for all of the bad things that have been happening in Downton. That errand turned out to be easier than I expected. What was difficult was convincing the villagers of it. I'm fortunate that Robert was there to help me talk some sense into them."

"Did no one believe you?"

"Some did, thank goodness, and there were enough of them to help me calm the others down, but I'm still uneasy."

"Why's that?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if some of them took it into their heads to confront her with a sword or a torch. I worry for her safety."

William's eyebrows rose. "Really, Dad? Can't a witch take care of herself?"

"She can, to a certain degree."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I can't tell you. But I can tell you that our magical neighbor is entirely benevolent. She takes care of orphans, for heaven's sake!"

William's eyes widened. "Orphans?! Are you sure she's really a witch?"

Charles laughed. "Oh yes, she's a witch, but an odd one. When she answered the door, she was a hideous old crone, but when she invited me in for tea, she transformed herself into a perfectly normal-looking woman. The children call her Godmother and they seem to adore her."

"Wait, you had _tea_ with a witch? And it wasn't poisoned?" William wanted to know.

"I told you, she's a very nice witch. She did most of the talking. I was too dumbfounded to say much. But I did promise her that I would do my best to convince the others she was no threat to Downton. So in a way I feel responsible for her. She's not entirely defenseless and she's really quite clever, but a crazed pack of idiots might still do some harm. The children have no magical powers and in protecting them, she might expose herself to danger."

"Oh no. What do you think they might do?"

Charles shook his head. "I really couldn't say. But if they decide to confront her, things could go badly."

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you'll go back - to visit the witch, I mean?"

"I'm considering it. I could tell her how the meeting went, so she knows that there is still some danger."

"Can I come with you?"

Charles was surprised at this request, but he had no objection. "I don't see why not."

"Then we should go tomorrow."

"Yes, I ought to tell her as soon as I can what she might be facing. But don't tell anyone about this. If the others found out they might think I'm in league with the enemy and come to _our_ house with torches and pitchforks."

"I understand, Dad. I won't say anything."

"Good. Now get to bed." I'll see you in the morning."

William nodded. "Yes, Dad. Good night."

"Good night, son." After William had gone to bed, Charles sat in the kitchen thinking. He wondered why he felt so eager to visit Elsie. Perhaps it was the urgency of making her aware of the situation in the village. Perhaps he was simply intrigued by this enigma of a witch and wanted to learn more about her. Whatever the reason, he was going to see her in the morning and he found himself looking forward to it.

#####

William and Charles approached the witch's house. William took in every detail of the place.

"Now, William, when Elsie answers the door, she will probably be very ugly, but don't be afraid." Charles knocked on the off-kilter door.

" _Elsie?"_

"Yes, that's her name."

"But she's a witch!"

"And a witch can't have a name?"

The door swung open before William could answer and the two men found themselves facing the old crone, but she wasn't quite as ugly as she'd been when Charles had first met her. Both of her eyes were clear and she seemed a little more neat and tidy.

"Hello, Elsie," Charles greeted her.

"Hello, Charlie. And who is this handsome young man you've brought?"

"This is my son, William. William, this is Elsie."

William nodded acknowledgment. "I'm pleased to meet you."

"Won't you come in for some tea?" Elsie suggested, turning away and making her way to the kitchen. Charles and William followed. Charles was not surprised to see her transformation over the next few minutes, though he still found it just as amazing. William simply stared. His father had told him what would happen, but it was still incredible to see the woman changing so much before his very eyes. They sat down at the table and Elsie poured three cups of tea.

William said nothing as he sipped his tea, simply watching the exchange between his father and the witch. They seemed to enjoy each other's company and the idea flitted through his mind that she might have cast a spell on Charles. After further observation, he discarded the notion. Elsie really was charming in a way that Charles would find engaging in any woman. And she didn't appear to gain anything from their exchange, aside of the pleasure of his company. It really was almost more than William could believe, but he _did_ believe it.

"Some of them believed me and some did not," Charles was saying. "The group agreed not to do anything foolish, but there may still be enough fear among them that they will become an angry mob and come after you."

Elsie sighed. "Thank you, Charlie. You've done all you can. I'll be all right."  
"I'll try again, Elsie, when I get back today. If I talk to them one at a time, perhaps I-"

"No, I won't have you taking so much trouble over me. If your neighbors decide to take matters into their own hands, I will find another place to live. I've done it before and I can do it again."

"But it wouldn't be right!" he exclaimed. "You haven't done anything wrong. Why should you have to leave?"

Elsie was arrested by the expression on his face and she was silent for a little while, her heart beating faster. "I thank you for your concern," she murmured. "It means a lot to me."

Charles almost reached for her hand across the table, but he remembered that his son was present and refrained. He was trying to think of a way to bring William into the conversation when the back door burst open and Thomas, Daisy, and Anna came into the room. As before, they converged on Elsie and begged for sweets.

"Not just yet, darlings," she told them. "After lunch you may have some more cake. But not a moment before. Now, please say hello to my guests. This is Charlie and that is William." The children mumbled greetings, shyly clinging to Elsie. "Now, my dears, will you go back outside and play?"

"We want to play in the parlor, Godmother," Thomas piped up.

"Well, that's all right, too," she agreed. "Be careful not to knock the lamp over!"

In a few seconds, they were gone again and their young voices could be heard faintly in the background.

"They seem well-behaved," William observed.

"Oh, yes, and they really are very sweet. They're a little shy around strangers, but they make enough noise and mess to keep me busy and cheerful. It can be a little lonely living alone in the woods."

"Are you sure you're a witch?" William said without thinking.

Elsie just laughed her musical laugh.

He blushed. "I'm sorry. That was a foolish question."

"Not at all," she told him. "You just haven't seen a nice witch before, and it doesn't surprise me. There aren't many of us. Most are quite wicked, or at least mischievous."

"Do you think one of them is causing problems in Downton?" the young man asked.

"Most likely," Elsie replied.

"Maybe I can find out who it is," Charles said.

"I'll help you, Dad."

"Be careful, you two. Remember that most witches are dangerous."

"We'll be careful," Charles agreed. "But I think we have to do something about what's been happening. Then maybe the villagers will accept my word that you are not involved."

Elsie gave him a sad smile. "Well, I wish you the best."

"Thank you. I think William and I should be going now."

"If I don't see the two of you again, may fortune smile on you for the rest of your days, and may your days be many."

"But, Elsie, I'm sure we'll see you again," Charles argued as they made their way to the front door.

"Perhaps," she replied. "Goodbye."

Elsie watched Charles and William until they were out of sight and then slowly closed the door. She went back to the kitchen and stood by the stove, feeling rather weary. She wiped away a stray tear before clearing the table. She looked around the room, trying to memorize every detail. She might need the memories in days to come.

 _To be continued…_


	4. Tragedy Strikes

Charles, William, Drewe, and Blake stood together behind the orchard cottage the next day, discussing their plans. Drewe and Blake supported their employer when it came to the question of the witch in the woods. They took his word for the witch's innocence and wanted to help find out who was responsible for the strange happenings in Downton. There weren't many clues, but they wouldn't give up. Charles decided to visit Elsie again and see if she could suggest a way to find the real culprit. Drewe and Blake agreed to recruit any of their friends and family who were willing to help find and defeat whoever or whatever was attacking the villagers' way of life.

After Drewe and Blake had departed on their errand, Charles and William went inside.

"Do you think it will work, Dad?" William asked. "Will we find out who's making trouble and can we keep the others from attacking Elsie?"

"I hope so. If we can find the real villain, Elsie will be safe, but we may not have much time. Perhaps I should talk to Robert - see if he knows what the general feeling is among our neighbors."

"That's a good idea."

A knock sounded at the front door and William went to answer it.

"Robert!" Charles exclaimed, going to the door to greet his friend with a handshake. "I was going to come see you soon."

"Charles, something terrible is happening." Robert looked grave. "I don't know if we can stop it, but I think we should try."

Charles's blood ran cold. "Is it something to do with the witch in the woods?"

"I'm afraid so. A number of men from Downton are mobilizing to confront her. Torches, pitchforks, and all the rest."

"Oh my God. What can we do?"

"The mob has already left the village, but they are probably not moving very quickly. We may be able to catch up to them."

Charles gestured to the door. "Then let's get going."

"I want to come, too, Dad."

"Very well. But hurry.

"I don't know if there's much we can do even if we _do_ catch them," Robert said, as the three men left the cottage. "An angry mob isn't likely to listen to reason and we have no real proof that she isn't responsible for our troubles."

Charles eyed his friend. "But you believe it to be true anyway?" he wondered.

"Of course! Aside of the fact that I know you to be honest and incorruptible, I've met the witch before and I don't believe she would hurt anyone, in any way."

Charles was surprised. "You've met Elsie?"

"Who's Elsie?" Robert wanted to know.

"That's the witch's name," William put in.

"Then yes, I've met her. Many years ago I made my first trip from Downton to the City and I got lost on my way back. I knocked on her door and she gave me something to eat and directions to get me home. She was nothing but kindness, in spite of her ugliness. I don't believe her capable of harming anyone."

"Did she not show you her true form? She is not always ugly."

"No, she didn't, though she looked slightly tidier when I left than when I first arrived."

"I see."

"It taught me a good lesson," Robert explained. "Ugly does not always mean evil. But you say she is not always ugly?"

"No. In fact, she looks very normal, about my age, and quite pretty."

Robert glanced sideways at Charles. "Pretty, is she? Will wonders never cease!"

Just then, they perceived the voices of the angry mob coming their way. Charles, Robert, and William hid themselves among the trees to the side of the path. The men seemed to be returning to Downton.

"I must have underestimated their speed," Robert whispered.

Once the mob passed, they hurried on in the direction of the witch's house, wondering what they might find. But they were too late. The house had been reduced to ash and embers and there was no sign of Elsie or the children.

Robert poked around in the remains of the small house with a stick, William following behind. Charles simply stood staring at what was left of his newest friend. Now that she was dead, he knew he loved her. How he could have come to love someone who was little more than a stranger he did not know, but it was true.

Robert and William walked all the way around the house and then came back to Charles.

"I'm so sorry, old chap," Robert murmured, having quickly deduced what ailed his friend.

"Dad, look what I found," William spoke up, holding something out to his father.

Charles took it and looked at it. It was a small teacup, one that Elsie had used to serve him tea. It was very dirty, but had only a slight chip on the handle. Somehow it had survived the fire. "Thank you, son," he replied.

Suddenly, a woman all in black appeared before them. "Fools," she sneered. "To think that this insignificant little witch could be strong enough to curse your puny village."

"Who are you?" Robert demanded.

"Are you the one who has been wreaking havoc in Downton?" Charles wanted to know.

The woman laughed wickedly. "I am, and there's nothing you feeble creatures can do about it. I must thank you for all this." She gestured at the pile of ash. "I'd been thinking about destroying her myself, but hadn't gotten around to it."

Robert stepped closer to the woman. "I ask you again, who are you?"

"I am the O'Brien, also known as your worst nightmare."

"We don't fear you, woman!" the mayor shouted.

"Then you, too, shall be destroyed." The woman laughed maniacally for a few seconds before disappearing into thin air.

 _To be continued…_


	5. The Search

Charles couldn't sleep that night. He wouldn't have admitted it, except _perhaps_ to his son, but he shed more than a few tears for Elsie. He went over the whole wretched scene in his mind. After the O'Brien disappeared, he, Robert, and William had made a more thorough search of the surrounding area, but there was no trace of the witch or the children anywhere. They had made their way back to Downton in silence. Both Robert and William seemed to understand what troubled Charles and that he wouldn't have been capable of any kind of conversation. Indeed, they were struck themselves by the tragic nature of what had just happened. A kind and generous person, along with three innocent children, had been killed by nothing more than irrational fear. Charles kept thinking that if he had only been walking faster, he might have caught up with the angry mob and prevented the destruction of the house and its occupants. In his heart, however, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. He could not really blame himself, but the feeling of powerlessness was little consolation.

Charles gave up on sleep just before sunrise. He strapped his sword to his belt and went in search of the O'Brien. He wasn't even sure where to look, but he started in his own orchard. He was about to go elsewhere when a movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. The witch had her eyes closed, apparently murmuring some incantation. Charles just watched her, wanting to get a good look at her appearance for future reference. She looked almost like any ordinary villager. She was garbed in a black dress with a white collar, but she wore no pointed hat and with curly, brown hair appeared to be a little less than fifty years old. The most unpleasant part of her appearance was the exceedingly sour expression on her face. She looked more evil than Elsie at her oldest and most forbidding. Charles knew that beauty and ugliness weren't always an accurate representation of the good or evil inside, but in this case the sorceress's appearance matched her nature. She finished her incantation and disappeared. He went to see what she had done and found the fruit of several of his trees shriveled and rotten. If the O'Brien continued like this throughout the village, the residents of Downton would soon realize their error in blaming the witch in the woods for their troubles.

Charles wasn't sure where she would strike next, but he had to keep looking. When he appeared in the marketplace later that morning, his sword and bloodshot eyes drew his neighbors' attention. _What is the matter with Charles? What has him so distraught? Why does he carry his sword to market?_

Robert was the first to approach him. "My dear chap, you look terrible! Why don't you go back home and get some rest."

"I can't sleep. I must find her. The O'Brien. I saw her in my orchard this morning and I'm sure she's lurking around the village now."

"Most likely."

"Please let me know if you see her."

Robert nodded. "I've heard talk in the village about her. I'm not sure if anyone's seen the O'Brien, but some of them are doubting their actions of last night. No one's bad luck has disappeared, in spite of Elsie's death."

Charles scoffed. "It's a bit late for regret."

"Still, you may be able to recruit some of them to help you track down the real culprit."

Charles shrugged. "Perhaps."

"I mean it, Charles. Don't try to do this all yourself. Especially when you've had no sleep."

"You're right. But for now I'm just watching her. When it comes time to fight, I will ask for help."

Robert was relieved. "Thank you, my friend. And please count on me to join you."

"Yes. I am grateful. But now I must go."

"Good luck to you."

Charles nodded his thanks and walked away.

#####

By sunset, Charles had scoured the village and had had a few sightings of the O'Brien, but nothing more. He wasn't sure what to do next. _How am I to fight her when she comes and goes so quickly?_ He walked into the woods on the opposite side of Downton from what he referred to in his mind as 'Elsie's woods.' What he didn't realize was that he was being followed. Alfred and a few of his friends had noticed Charles's odd behavior and wanted to find out what was going on.

Charles stopped in a small clearing and the young men hid in the woods where they could see him. They were shocked when an unpleasant-looking woman appeared in front of him.

"You again," Charles greeted her. "When are you going to leave my village alone?"

"I'll go when I'm good and ready."

"No, you'll go _now._ "

"Listen, little man. Suppose I meet you in battle. We'll set a day and time and you can recruit all the fighters your pitiful village can produce. If you win, I'll leave you alone forever, but if I win, you'll all be cursed for the rest of your pathetic lives."

"What choice do I have?"

She cackled. "None whatsoever."

 _To be continued…_


	6. Return to the Woods

William hurried through the woods, hoping that his intuition would be proven correct, and at the same time fearing that he was wrong. He was returning to the house of the witch - at least where the house _had_ been. He liked Elsie and hoped that she was still alive. Something was telling him that she and the children had escaped by some magic or other. He didn't know if he would find them at the site of the fire, but it was a start.

When William saw the house he broke out in a run. He knocked on the door and waited. He almost opened it himself but then he heard noise from within and the door was flung open. The witch stood before him, perfectly whole and as pretty as she had been over tea the day before.

"Elsie!" he exclaimed. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"Oh, William," she greeted him with a smile. "Please do come in. I was hoping someone would come. I'm so glad it's you."

William followed her inside and to the kitchen where she made him sit down and fixed some tea. "You must tell me everything that's happened. How did you survive the fire? Are the children all right?"

"I will tell you everything, though there is not much to tell. The children and I escaped using magic as you might've guessed. We barely had enough time to escape, but we managed, as you see."

"I'm so angry at that mob that destroyed your house. It's a terrible thing, when you have done nothing wrong."

"Tell me, does your father know you are here?" Elsie asked. "Where is he now? What is happening in Downton?"

"My father left home very early, before I woke up this morning. I'm not sure where he's gone although I know he took his sword with him. He won't do anything foolish or harm anyone, but I do worry about him. He still thinks you're dead. He'll be so happy when I tell him that you're alive."

"I hope I can see him soon." Elsie paused. "What does your mother think of all of this, William?"

"My mother? Oh, my mother has been dead for ten years. It's just Dad and me."

"I see. It must've been difficult to lose your mother at such an early age. I lost my mother when I was only ten years old. I understand how hard it can be."

"It is difficult," William answered. "But there are many people in Downton who are like mothers to me. There is no substitute for having your own mother, but it is much better than no mother at all."

Elsie gestured out the back window. "Yes I think I understand. I am not the mother of these children but I can provide them with stability and love. Well, perhaps I have not provided much stability recently but there is no shortage of love between me and these little ones."

"And love can make up for a lot of bad luck," William observed.

"Indeed," Elsie observed. "Love can do so many things. It is almost like magic."

William smiled. "Yes, it is like magic. Love really _is_ magic."

"Love is, in part, what brought me back to this place. Normally, when I am driven out of a home, I find a new place to live. But something kept me here. I came back and I rebuilt this house, from my memories. And love is what helps me remember. I can only rebuild something if I can remember it. If you look around the house, you will see that it is not _exactly_ the way it was before. But I remember most of it. Almost everything in this house is connected with happy memories. I remember all the people that I've helped when they stopped at my house, lost on the road. I remember moments of love with my children. And I also remember moments with you and with your father. These are very special moments to me, though I can't explain why. But they are moments I treasure. Do you think your father will return soon? Will he ever visit again?"

"I don't see why not," replied William. "I feel sure that he treasures these moments in this cottage just as much as you do. It was quite a blow to all of us when we thought you had perished in the fire, but it was especially difficult for my father. I think you are very special to him. The first thing I will do when I leave your house will be to find my father and tell him you're alive. He is very upset and I would like to put his mind at ease."

Elsie smiled. She had thought Charles must be married when she had first met him, but it seemed that was not the case. She didn't know what chances she had of making him love her, but she felt that there was some chance, even without magic. Elsie had no intention of making him love her through magic. It had to be real or it would not be right. She only hoped that he would come back to see her.

"William, I hope you will not find this strange, but I wish you would go now and tell your father about what you've seen. I want him to know that I'm alive. I don't want him distraught. You can come back later and you can stay as long as you like. But if he goes after whoever is responsible for the bad things happening in Downton, he will need his strength for things like fighting, instead of mourning."

William looked thoughtful. "Of course," he agreed. "You are right. I will go now. I will return later and tell you what is happening. I believe my father has gone after the culprit, the one who has set so many curses against the residents of Downton. We know now that someone called the O'Brien is responsible for everything terrible that's happened. She appeared to us just outside this house last night after the fire. She admitted what she had done, and threatened to continue plaguing us."

"Oh dear," commented Elsie. "The O'Brien is a very powerful sorceress. I hope your father is successful."

"He has many friends in Downton," William told her. "I believe he can recruit supporters to help him fight her. But I must go now. I will see you soon, very soon. Thank you for the tea."

"You're welcome at any time, William. Good luck."

"Thank you, Elsie." And William left her house and hurried back to the village.

#####

Charles entered his house and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. He was exhausted. The young men's observation of his conversation with the O'Brien had helped him recruit most of the village to join him in battle the following dawn. Now he was feeling the effects of having slept so little the night before.

"Dad! Where have you been?" William called out. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"I've been speaking to everyone in the village. The O'Brien has declared a final battle at dawn tomorrow."

"Oh! Well, you can count on me to be there. I have no sword, but I think I can find a weapon of some kind."

"Well, then," Charles remarked. "Why were you searching for me all day?"

William grinned. "I have some wonderful news."

Charles smiled at his son's excitement. "Out with it!"

"Elsie is alive. She and the children survived the fire." William watched his father's face.

Charles closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. "Thank goodness," he murmured. "I thank all that is good."

"That's just what I thought, Dad."

"Did you see her?"

"Yes, and spoke to her. She hopes you'll visit soon."

"I would go now, but-"

"But you didn't sleep at all last night and you're fighting a wicked and powerful sorceress at dawn."

Charles sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. After tomorrow, though, all will be as it should, and I may visit Elsie as often as I wish."

William looked grave. "Do you think we'll win, Dad?"

"I can't think any other way until it's all over. We will do the best we can, which I hope will be enough."

He nodded. "Go to bed, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow."

"The same goes for you, William."

"I'm going to have a snack and then I'll go to sleep, too."

"All right, then. Good night."

"Good night."

As soon as the door to Charles's room was closed, William slipped out of the house again and ran into the woods. It wasn't long before he returned, his errand complete. He quickly changed into his nightclothes and fell into the most restful sleep he had ever had, as did every single other resident of Downton.

 _To be continued…_


	7. The Battle

Charles and William didn't speak much as they prepared for the battle. Charles had already sharpened his sword and William had fashioned a heavy wooden staff. They both wondered if such weapons would be of any use at all against a witch, especially one as evil and powerful as the O'Brien, but it wasn't worth saying aloud. The village was about to face her armed with such weapons, so they would find out soon enough.

Men and women of Downton left their homes in silence, meeting in the marketplace to depart for the battlefield. Robert led the way, Charles following close behind. The O'Brien had named a meadow just outside the village as the place where Downton's fate would be decided, but before they arrived, she appeared in the road.

"What is this?" Robert wanted to know. "We're to do battle in the meadow."

"We'll fight where I say we'll fight." The O'Brien flicked her fingers in the direction of the crowd and everyone lost their balance and fell to the ground. They got back up quickly. It was time to defend the village.

Robert led the way with a slash of his sword in the witch's direction, but she ducked. However, Charles foresaw this and managed to graze her cheek with his sword. Soon several villagers were attacking her at once, but she managed to send each of them reeling - some injured and some merely pushed away. In just a short while, they seemed to be making headway, but Charles knew it was only a trick. The O'Brien was holding back, so she could tire them out and then defeat them more easily later. Still, he kept attacking her, receiving several wounds himself. Her most common defense was some kind of lightning beam that shot from the palm of her hand. She used it to defend herself, but also to attack. Before long, there were quite a few villagers on the ground, moaning in pain. The O'Brien had been using her weaker spells and she was already knocking them flat, one by one.

Charles was standing back, catching his breath while others took their turn, when he felt someone at his elbow. He looked down to find Elsie standing beside him. She was at her ugliest, but it didn't matter. She was alive and she was here. He took her hand and squeezed it briefly. She smiled and turned her attention to the wounded. With a nod of her head they were healed and back on their feet. She wiggled her fingers briefly and the attackers were suddenly much stronger, pushing O'Brien further and further back. Charles joined the fight again, while Elsie stayed back, healing each injury almost as soon as it had occurred.

"How is this happening?" Robert asked no one in particular.

"Look, it's the old crone!" Alfred said, pointing to where the ugly old woman stood. "Could she be responsible? Is she helping us?"

"She is," Charles confirmed. "She is healing and strengthening us."

Alfred looked troubled. "It's hard to believe that she would defend us after what we did to her. I am glad she did not perish in the fire."

"She's a good witch," William told him. "There aren't many like her."

Alfred's wife, Ivy, piped up. "Why isn't she attacking the O'Brien? If she's really on our side, she ought to do more than just heal us."

"Ivy!"

"I'm sorry, but she might as well be on the O'Brien's side if she refuses to attack her."

Charles caught Elsie's eyes and she nodded. He turned to the small group. "She won't attack her, because she can't. She can only do good with her magic, never evil, even if she is struggling against an evil adversary."

"But isn't it good to destroy evil?" Ivy asked.

Elsie finally spoke up. "Whether it is or not, I have no power to destroy anyone, but I can be a great deal of help as your defender. I can make you nearly immune to the O'Brien's attacks and give you strength and accuracy to fight her more effectively."

"Come on, Ivy," Alfred said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "She really is on our side."

Ivy nodded. "Yes, I believe her. And it's time to fight."

By this time, the O'Brien was looking much worse than before. Sweat glistened on her brow, her clothing was torn, and she had several bloody wounds. Charles wasn't the only one who was surprised that she was vulnerable to ordinary weapons, but she certainly was. Her usual strategy was speed and powerful spells, but she could not evade every slash of dozens of weapons at once and she didn't have time to cast many spells. Elsie was quick to heal anyone who was hurt and greatly increased the speed and skill of the villagers. At last, the O'Brien appeared to be on the verge of defeat. Robert raised his sword, ready to finish her, but she disappeared just before the blow hit. He stabbed at the air, but his sword came back with a souvenir. A silver chain hung from the blade, a large pendant attached. Robert removed it and looked closely at it.

"It looks like some sort of talisman."

Elsie hurried to his side. "That's exactly what it is. It's the signal that you have defeated the O'Brien. She will no longer trouble your village. Congratulations." In the commotion, she tried to slip away from the crowd, but Robert was having none of this. He grasped her hand and brought her forward.

"We owe you our lives, dear lady. We thank you."

"Aye!" one of the men agreed, holding his sword in the air. Soon he was followed by every man and woman present, all expressing their thanks to the witch from the woods. Then all were silent, expecting Elsie to speak.

"You fought bravely, even before I began my work," she started. Her foggy eyes grew clearer and her hunch disappeared. "Today we have defeated a powerful villain by working together." As she spoke, her ugliness gradually melted away, much to the amazement of the crowd. "I hope you will not accuse me again of trying to harm you. I feared you just as you feared me." Now she went beyond the beauty Charles had seen. She was a queen, draped in silk and jewels, everything about her completely perfect. "The reason I have come at all is because of a wise man who lives in your midst - the one you call Charles. He understood what I was and tried to protect me." She looked at Robert. "Now I must go. I wish you well."

This time Robert let her go, watching her in wonder. The crowd began to dissipate and he was left alone with Charles. "That's a lovely witch you have there, my friend."

"I don't have any witch," Charles protested.

"I think you do. And I think you'd best go and visit her." Robert gave him a smile and went in search of his wife.

Charles walked slowly home, uncertain how he felt. Elsie might be even more than a good witch. She had looked so completely perfect when she left and it confused him. Was that the same woman he loved? When he reached the cottage, William was waiting for him.

"Dad, wasn't that just amazing? Elsie came to our aid, even after some of our neighbors burned her house down, hoping she was in it! It's still hard to believe she's really a witch!"

"Yes, especially after that amazing display of dazzling beauty."

"You'll go visit her now, won't you?"

"I'm not sure I should. What if she's a queen? What would a queen want with a farmer?"

William frowned. He had a feeling nothing he could say would convince him that Elsie cared about him. "Take her some apples. We have a good basket of them in the kitchen."

"Perhaps…"

"Go, Dad!"

"All right, I'll go!" Charles took the apples and left the house.

 _To be continued…_


	8. True Beauty

Charles hesitated for a long time before he knocked on Elsie's door. When she answered it, he held out the basket of apples to her, his eyes on the ground.

"I have brought you a gift, O Queen," he said. "It is a humble gift, but my heartfelt thanks go with it. You have proven your beauty and goodness today and I am grateful."

Elsie's smile faded. "Why call me queen? You know I am no queen."

"I know no such thing. I have seen you in every form imaginable today. I know not which is your true form, and if you are a queen, I must bow down."

"Look at me, Charlie. I tell you again, I am no queen."

Reluctantly, Charles looked up and was relieved to find her as he knew her best. She had a few wrinkles and a few gray hairs, but she was a pretty woman, with twinkling eyes and a musical voice. "If you are no queen, tell me who you really are."

"I am truly as you see me now - neither hag nor beauty. It was the curse given to me at birth. I can take any form for a short period of time, but I am neither ugly nor beautiful."

Charles smiled gently and reached out to touch her cheek. "What do you mean? You _are_ beautiful."

"Not like the queen," she told him.

"She was not real. And even if she were, I would prefer you to her."

Elsie said nothing, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Do you not believe me?" he questioned her.

"I would _like_ to believe you."

"I tell you, you are beautiful. Why would I lie?"

Elsie smiled and took his hand in hers. "You are always to be trusted, Charlie. You must be telling the truth."

"I will tell you again, if it is necessary."

She laughed. "No. I believe you. But do you trust me, Charlie?"

"I do."

"Then you will believe me when I tell you that _you_ are beautiful."

Charles scoffed, his cheeks red. "A man is not beautiful."

Elsie squeezed his hand. "Not every man is. But _you_ are."

"Well then." He stepped closer to her. "What does it mean?"

She looked thoughtful. "Well, if I am beautiful and you are beautiful-"

"Then we're a perfect match." Charles pulled Elsie into his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back. They drank tea and he asked her if she could and would marry him. She could and she would, so she did.

 _Epilogue_

The cottage at the orchard soon had four new occupants. Charles and Elsie loved each other passionately and tenderly. William doted on Elsie's adopted children and they adored him, especially Thomas, who looked up to and tried to emulate his new older brother. Elsie used her magic for some of the heavy cleaning, but she still insisted that her children, including William, pick up after themselves. Someday, they would probably wish to marry and the chances of their finding spouses who had magical powers was very slight. For the sake of their future mates, she made sure that they knew how to keep their rooms clean.

Charles and his wife had several more children, which led to the need for a good deal of extra space in the cottage. Between Drewe, Blake, and Elsie, the new rooms were finished in record time. Hard work and benevolent magic are always a successful combination.

Elsie became known as both the witch at the orchard and the fairy godmother of Downton. She did the village good with her magic, but also with her smiles, her laughter, and her kindness.

 _The End._

 **Thank you all for your reviews and support. You have been wonderful!**

 **Just for your edification, here is the full original prompt, from auideas via chelsiesouloftheabbey. I didn't want to give it at the beginning, because it would have given away some of the surprises of Charlie and Elsie's first meeting.**

 **The Witch In The Woods AU: Character A lives in a town has been plagued by terrible luck - crops dying, animals being moody, milk going sour, etc. – and everybody is blaming Character B, the witch who lives in the woods outside of the town. Character A is sent out to confront, kill, or drive out Character B. Character B is a witch who lives in the woods and takes in orphaned children, and helps out lost, weary road travelers. When Character A arrives at their doorstep with a sword and a lot of angry words, Character B tries to settle the matter by inviting them in for tea.**


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